The following is observational writing based on Acton Cemetery, (the format of which is) inspired by The Street by Georges Perec.
A burial ground: a place to sleep (“Alice Welsh who fell asleep”)
The place: “308 Park Royal Rd”
Acton Cemetery, accessed from Chase Road
Take the right from Victoria Road, walk by the North Acton Tube Station
The time: One o’clock in the afternoon
The date: 23 September 2025
The cemetery is quiet, the small garden at the entrance is empty. There are two clear paths ahead, to the right and straight ahead; these are narrow cemented roads. There are a few cars parked to the right, black and blue. A few more further ahead, besides what seems to be a newly dug gravesite.
A winding road, turning right from the gate. Around it goes, graves on either side. You can hear cars on the road to the left, a few birds chirping, the distant hum of construction, gravel under your feet. It is very quiet. There is both warmth and discomfort to the stillness. A man sits on a black bench, eating a sandwich. A woman in a long brown coat walks by. Another sitting on the next bench. (The tally of people eventually seen walking (through): eighteen).
A bridge connects two parts of the cemetery; there’s bright colourful graffiti on the walls. Ahead there is a chapel. A war memorial behind it. The graves extend; there are a few that appear more new, more flowers, little vases and makeshift crosses on mounts of soil. Headstones with engraved lilies: Rest in Peace. Cards and bouquets. What are the things we leave for our dead?
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